


What She Wanted

by lexatoldmeto



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, NSFW, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 13:03:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5870689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexatoldmeto/pseuds/lexatoldmeto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lexa tries to be the healer</p>
            </blockquote>





	What She Wanted

The blade was cold on Lexa’s neck. So cold it made the skin ache, like it wasn’t a knife held to her throat but a blade of ice, threatening to freeze the blood it drew.  
Her eyes met Clarke’s and her limbs got heavy. Like iron had replaced the blood in her veins, and her lungs were suddenly full of everything but air. So many years of training, outdone by a little girl who fell from the sky. What good was hand-to-hand combat training when the enemy could cut you without a knife?  
So she let it happen. She let the knife rest against her skin, pushed into it further, even. Maybe this was what Clarke needed. Maybe what she needed was to see blood on Lexa’s throat. To know that she bled too. Now. Then.  
But Clarke pulled away. And Lexa wished she hadn’t. Maybe it was what she needed too. To remind herself that she bled too. Now. Then.  
Clarke’s eyes looked different than she remembered. Where there had once been courage and goodness, there was now rage and desperation. Lexa wasn’t sure what would have become had she stayed at the mountain with the sky people, but she was sure that if she had, the girl in front of her wouldn’t be struggling to breathe.  
Clarke lunged at her. Dug her nails into her shoulders and shoved her. And then again, and again, each time weaker than the last, until she crumpled into herself and recoiled backwards, like she was afraid someone was going to hurt her. It was the time Lexa had seen her look afraid since she left her at the mountain.  
Clarke’s chest heaved and she started to cry, “I trusted you.” Her voice was weak and shaky, and almost undetectable. But Lexa heard her with no trouble, “I wanted you.”  
She looked childlike and vulnerable, a little more recognizable to the girl that had been left behind to fend for herself. Lexa stepped forward and held Clarke’s face in her hand, wiping away the dirty tears with her thumbs. She leaned forward and kissed the scrape on Clarke’s forehead, then the bridge of her nose, her closed, wet eyes, and then her lips, salty and hot from her tears. Clarke seemed to soften in Lexa’s arms, but as fast as the little girl Lexa remembered returned, she vanished and left the angry ghost of herself that made Lexa so sorry for what she had done.  
She wrapped her fingers around Lexa’s neck, her nails digging into her skin. Lexa’s hands squeezed Clarke’s wrists, not quite hard enough to pull them away. There was a moment of nothingness between them, just hands, and eyes that plead for forgiveness and, eyes that would never accept it. And then Clarke’s mouth was on Lexa’s, her fingers still clutching her throat. She freed one hand, and pushed it up Lexa’s shirt feeling muscles, and then ribs, and then finding what she was looking for.  
Clarke scratched at her chest like she was trying to hold on to something, and Lexa let her, loosening the grip on her hands and opening her mouth wider to let her in. She let Clarke guide her hands to where she wanted them, and then let them linger just long enough for her to get a little angrier. Forcing her knee between Clarke’s legs, she guides her to the bed behind them, Clarke finally releasing the grip on her bruised throat, pushing Lexa onto the bed and forcing her thin legs open with her body. Her hands immediately find the place that she’s looking for, and she knows it when Lexa’s breath quickens. Lexa opens her mouth and before she can make any noise, Clarke places 2 fingers on her tongue, snarling something that dares her to make a sound. Lexa knows what she’s supposed to do, stay quiet and give Clarke what she wants. All Lexa wanted was for Clarke to look at her.  
Lexa shuts her mouth around Clarke’s fingers, and Clarke seems satisfied, adding a finger to what’s already tight between Lexa’s legs, and leaning down to sink her teeth into her shoulder, and then returning her mouth to where it was before.  
A whimper escapes Lexa’s mouth but she quiets herself and arches her back as the tension between her legs becomes almost too great for her to handle. She clutches the sheets beneath her and prepares for the wave that’s about to course through her body. As she does, Clarke comes back to look Lexa in the eyes once again. Her breathing is heavy and she sounds as if she’s suppressing a giggle.  
“Don’t forget who left who first,” she sneers.  
She bites Lexa’s lower lip, drawing blood, and with no hesitancy at all, she climbs off Lexa’s tired, unfinished body and wraps herself in the same dirty hides she came in wearing.  
“May we meet again,” she hisses with a smile.


End file.
